


Prayer

by jadedcrystalide



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Grand Prix Final, Islam, Islamophobia, Muslim Character, Muslim Otabek Altin, Prayer, Ramadan, Religion, also a weirdly sexual description of pirozhki, barcelona, fluffy friendship fic!!!, like a couple days after theyre all still in barcelona, this is set in like... december just after the finals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedcrystalide/pseuds/jadedcrystalide
Summary: Their friendship is growing day by day as they learn more about each other. By now, Otabek has realised- and was quick to realise- Yuri's love for pastries, migraine-inducing music and Doc Martin boots in a variety of colours. But all Yuri knew about his new friend was the obvious: he rode a motorbike and would look great even if he was wearing a plastic bag. Until Yuri learns something about Otabek that was simultaneously a surprise yet made so much sense... and he liked the Kazakh even more afterwards.All while talking through mouthfuls of pork cutlet bowl pirozhki, of course.





	Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> hey! I've noticed a lack of Muslim-centered Otabek fics and that makes me sad. In my mind I'm pretty certain he'd be a Muslim- over 70% of Kazakhstan is Muslim and Otabek seems to be very passionate about his country, so he's probably native Kazakh and his family would follow Kazakh traditions. Plus it'd be lovely to a Muslim character. Soooo since Ramadan has started, I decided to write my own fanfic!  
> Disclaimer: I'm not Muslim myself, however I am very interested in the religion and have genuinely thought abt converting (though my family wouldnt support me rip). That being said, I'm not an expert, so please correct me if anyone sees that I made a mistake:) Happy Ramadan to those celebrating!  
> Content warning for brief mention of Islamophobia (but its just Yuri asking questions and Otabek explaining his practices etc.  
> ((also i messed up the spacing lmao))

A brown paper bag held the second-best thing in the entire world, if Yuri did say so himself. Second only to the gold medal he won at the Grand Prix Final. By only by a hairs width even then.

Golden, steaming, delicious- the pork cutlet pirozhki stared at him with mocking beauty. The blond stared back, asserting his dominance, silently promising to eat that god damned thing before it had a chance to ask for mercy. Although at the same time it probably wanted to be eaten, which made Yuri smile, looking pleased and hungry and-

And probably really fucking weird in the eyes of his best friend.

“What? It’s good!” Yuri snapped, narrowing his eyes at Otabek’s amused expression. The stupid Kazakh always looked so fucking cool, in his leather jacket and sunglasses pushed on top of his head. Yuri might have been mad if he wasn’t so intent on savouring the pastry that his grandpa had brought him a few moments earlier.

They were alone, the two of them, alone in the main seating area of the Barcelona Hotel. Splashing from a nearby indoor swimming pool and the screams of excited children were the only noises other than the two skaters’ breathing. Yuuri and Viktor had gone off somewhere, Chris had organised lunch with a handful of the other competitors that didn’t include Yuri and Otabek despite the invitation (“no, Chris, I’m not interested in your weird homely get together and neither is Beka”) and the coaches had all gone down to the beach or to the shopping districts. Barcelona was still decently hot, even in winter. So, there they sat, cleverly avoiding the sun and talking about how much of an idiot JJ was.

Well… Yuri was talking about how much of an idiot JJ was. Otabek grunted and nodded in agreement occasionally. But that was good enough.

“Y’know, Katsudon might be a complete and utter moron but you gotta admit, Japanese cuisine is great.” Mumbled the Russian between mouthfuls. To anyone else it would have been gross, yet Otabek only smiled. Yuri liked that about him, he supposed, that he didn’t judge him and didn’t seem to mind his arrogance and anger and periodic teenage grossness.  
That’s why we’re best friends.

“You sure you don’t wanna go out after making love to- sorry, eating- that thing? We’re only here a few days longer.” Otabek asked with a smirk. His Kazakh accent sounding slightly like his friends thick Russian one, but still distinct in itself. His voice was deeper than Yuri’s but with rougher English, sometimes mixing up words and messing up grammar. Yuri liked that about him too, his voice.

 

The blond raised an eyebrow. “Beka, I have never been this hot in my life, even if it is still winter. I go out there, I burn. I can slather on factor 50 until I start to sweat sunscreen but I assure you when I come back I will be as red as that scarf you’re wearing.” He pointed to the only item of clothing that wasn’t black on Otabek’s figure.

How the hell was he able to wear a scarf and black clothes in this temperature, anyway?

“Aww, sorry. Forgot a small pale boy like you cooked so easily.” Otabek teased in good-nature, crossing his legs and leaning back into his seat. Yuri grumbled in annoyance, momentarily jealous of his friend’s darker skin and tolerance to the sun. Beka under the sun earned him a pleasant tan. Yuri under the sun was a sentence to agonising month-long sunburn. 

Yuri shot him a glare and took another bite from his piroshki.

“Grandpa makes these amazingly, y’know. I never liked egg much before but in this it’s delicious.” The pork was perfectly cooked too, Yuri noted with satisfaction. He also noticed the way his friend was staring. “You want some? I’m sure grandpa has more, I can go ask-“

“No, it’s okay. I can’t anyway.” Otabek explained with a grateful smile, which did nothing but earn a frown from the blond across from him.

“Can’t eat pirozhki? Are you sick?” 

“No, not sick. Just can’t eat it.”

“Have you already ate? I haven’t seen you eat in hours.”

“I ate before sunrise, yes.”

“But that was hours ago!” Yuri exclaimed, irrationally angry now. But still Beka sat calmly. He probably should get better at managing his feelings, Yuri dully told himself; any negative emotion was expelled as anger. But it just didn’t make any sense!

The Kazakh shrugged with a small smile, not seeming to notice the glare that came from his friend. Yuri was good at that. Glaring. Seems like he had a lot of practice.

“… Why?” The Russian asked tentatively, going for another approach. Asking seemed to get him places.

 

“I can’t eat pork. And I can’t eat until sunset.”

 

Yuri hesitated at that, narrowed his eyes, as if he was trying to remember something. He thought back to something he was taught a few years ago in school and for the first time wished he’d paid more attention in Religious Education class.

“Oh! You’re like, religious or something, right? Jewish people don’t eat pork, do they?” He suddenly felt very proud of himself for remembering that. The smirk on his lips was wiped away by Otabek’s slight chuckle.

“No, I don’t believe they do. But I’m Muslim. We don’t eat pork either, and I can’t eat until sunrise because I’m practicing Ramadan. My coach is, too. It’s usually during the summer months but we can’t do it then due to competition, so we do it in the winter break instead.” Beka explained, seeming keen to elaborate and pleased with Yuri’s sudden interest. He had never mentioned it before because he didn’t see any reason to- it’s not as if it affected anyone else. Though it was a subject he was passionate about, and if Yuri wanted to know more then he was happy to explain.

“Ramadan? That’s when you, like, don’t eat much for a month right?”

“Sort of. We eat before sunrise and break the fast at sunset. Some Muslims go by the time zone of the country they’re in, some follow the sunrise and sunset of Mecca, which is in Saudi Arabia. We fast to remember the suffering of those less fortunate and bring us closer to Allah. In a nutshell. There’s more to it than that but I’d get carried away.” He showed a rare smile then, which proved how strongly he felt about the subject. Yuri was nodding throughout the explanation, fortunately finding it easy to keep up. He was raised Catholic himself, as was most of Russia, but classed himself as non-religious. Although listening to Otabek’s explanation of his practices and culture was undeniably fascinating.

“Okay. So you can’t eat pork either?”

“Nope. No meat from a pig. The meat we can eat has to be halal, meaning it has been slaughtered correctly.”

 

“How do you find that kind of meat here?”

“With great difficulty.” Another small chuckle. He mostly avoided eating meat in foreign countries- the majority of Kazakhstan was Muslim so it was easy to find Halal meat there, and he was lucky enough to find a suitable source in the other places he had lived in long-term. But it was easier to avoid meat altogether when travelling for competitions.

Yuri stayed quiet for a bit while chewing on a bite of his pastry, not attempting to talk through a mouthful this time. In all honesty, he knew very little about Islam, except the stuff in the media that clearly didn’t paint a positive picture of the religion. That had to be bullshit though, right? Otabek wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“So like…” He swallowed the food and turned to his friend again. “All that stuff in the media, about terrorist attacks and stuff… what’s that all about? Are they Muslims?”

The change of expression on Otabek’s face was immediate, falling from a soft smile to a look of sadness and bitterness, making Yuri worried that he had said the wrong thing. Before he could apologise Otabek shook his head. “The Qur’an teaches peace and tolerance, to people of all races and religions. Plus, Islam has been around for hundreds of years, nearly 1500 years, and these attacks have been much more recent. It isn’t the religion- it’s corruption of people. They’re not Muslims. They’re murderers. “God does not love corruption.” He quoted, nodding intelligently, the smile now back on his face. Yuri found himself smiling too.

 

“Do you ever get negativity from it? Like, people yelling at you in public and such?”

“Not in Kazakhstan. But if I’m in Europe or Canada or the USA for whatever reasons then yeah, people might look at me funny or shout at me if I pray in public. It sucks but I’m lucky. I’ve never been physically hurt.” The mention of prayer lead the older man to glance behind him at the overly-fancy clock hanging on the wall. “On that note, I need to go and pray in a minute.”

Yuri finished eating the pirozhki (not holding back a sigh of disappointment that it was all gone) and nodded at his friend’s words. He didn’t know how it all worked, but it must be important. Otabek often disappeared at weird times. Guess he knew the reason now.

“Sure, I need to text Mila anyway. How long does it take?”

“Depends. I need to wash before praying. It’s called wudu. I shouldn’t be more than 15 minutes or so.” He stood and stretched, wincing at the cracking of bones in his back. Should stretch better after practice. His coach was going to throw a fit otherwise.

Yuri nodded his temporary goodbye as Otabek walked out the room, then pulled out his phone to text the hag. He’d be lying if he said he hated her. He’d also be lying if he said he didn’t smile to himself and become suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of peace while listening to his friend’s prayers- which sounded like they were all in Arabic.

They learned more and more about each other every day.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it was okay :0 and sorry for any mistakes i may have made, in both grammar/spelling and subject matter. I'm thinking abt maybe writing more muslim-centered Otabek fics or just more yuri on ice fics in general once I've finished my exams. Anyway I hope y'all liked it!!


End file.
